One Moment
by IndigoNightandRayneStorm
Summary: What would you do if you had one wish? If you had the chance to change just one mistake? If you could go back to just one moment in time and change it; if you could change the entire course of history, would you? First Class spoilers. AU, character death.


**Title: **One Moment

**Author: **Indigo Night

**Summary: **What would you do if you had one wish? If you had the chance to change just one mistake? If you could go back to just one moment in time and change it; if you could change the entire course of history, would you?

**Feedback: **Yes please, yay reviews!

**Pairing: **Implied Charles/Erik (Xavier/Magneto) but could just be bromance.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own X-men or the characters I'm just borrowing them for fun.

**Spoilers: **Yes, for X-Men First Class

**Warnings: **AU, implied slash, character death

**Author's Note: **The things I think about as I fall asleep. First Class was such a good movie, I've seen it twice and still can't get it out of my head. The relationship between Erik and Charles is just so potent and tragic. Read, Review,

**Enjoy****!**

* * *

><p><em>What would <em>

_you d__o if you had one wish?_

Magneto whirled, eyes struggling to pierce the darkness.

_If you had the chance to change just one mistake?_

The Djinn faced him, eyes glowing faintly in the gloom.

Magneto's mind ran through the treasury of mistakes he had made. All the moments that had gone wrong. There were so many, so many. But inevitably one stood above all the rest.

_If you could go back to just one moment in time and change it; if you could change the entire course of history, would you?_

"Yes."

* * *

><p>The shift was abrupt, light and sound erupting around him. He didn't even have a second to think. Bullets flew toward him, missiles at his command in the air, voices around him shouting, begging him to stop. If he hadn't replayed this moment over and over in his mind so many times, he would have been lost.<p>

As it was he had mere seconds. He deflected the first few bullets on reflex. He counted them, like he had so many times in his nightmares, waiting for his doom. Then it came. The last bullet, that small piece of metal that had destroyed so much.

He had but a moment to restrain himself, a split second to fight instinct and turn off his power. Vaguely he was aware of the missiles exploding harmlessly in the air, and then the bullet hit.

The pain was abrupt and shocking. Dimly he felt his knees hit the sand, felt the reverberations of the exploding missiles, heard the shocked cries of those around him. But all he really knew was pain.

His head hit the sand, that ridiculous helmet tumbling away. He could feel it now, that warm, familiar presence fluttering at the edges of his mind like the delicate wings of a moth and he smiled.

Blood pumped from the wound, staining the sand beneath him. The sky was bright and blue above him. It was a lovely day, he thought absently.

Then suddenly the sky was hidden behind a face, an angry, worried, terrified face.

Charles placed a hand over the wound, as though he could hold Erik's blood, his life, in by sheer force of will. Carefully, he shifted Erik, lifting him out of the sand and cradling his head in his lap.

"I did it," Erik muttered through a haze of shock. He remembered this so keenly, but from the other side, kneeling in the sand, watching his friend bleed. It was better this way.

"Just hold still," Charles soothed him, though his voice shook, "Everything will be alright."

Erik shook his head. The bullet hadn't quite reached his heart, but it was close enough. "I'm sorry, Charles," he whispered, voice choked by the blood that was clogging his throat, "I'm so sorry, for everything."

"It doesn't matter now," Charles assured distractedly, as his hands scrambled desperately over Erik's chest.

"No, it doesn't." It was an effort to move, but Erik managed to catch Charles' hands, stilling them.

Charles frowned at him, probing at the edges of Erik's mind.

"It's better this way," a gasp of pain escaped him, distorting the words, "It's better."

"Erik, I don't understand…" Charles pressed into his mind and he didn't resist. It had been so long since he'd felt this… this intimacy with Charles, so long since he'd allowed Charles into his mind, so long since he'd had nothing to hide. He closed his eyes tiredly as Charles shorted though a lifetime of memories, of mistakes, regrets, in seconds. It was a lifetime of moments that had never happened, and now never would.

"What… Erik, this is impossible… I don't…" Charles sputtered helplessly.

"Don't give up on them," he forced his grip on Charles' hands to tighten, clinging to him for as long as he could, "Even if you're wrong, don't ever give up on them." Charles would do the right thing, Charles always did. And without Erik there to get in his way, Charles would succeed.

"No, Erik, don't leave me," Charles pleaded.

"It's a bit late for that," Erik chuckled humorlessly, though the sound came out as more of a sob. Tears were snaking their way unheeded from his eyes, tears of pain, but it wasn't until something wet splashed his face that he realized Charles was trying too. "Be the man I couldn't be. Be the better man." His grip on Charles' hands was loosening without his permission. Darkness swam at the edges of his vision, and he could feel the beat of his heart slowing undeniably.

Charles shook his head. "No. You cannot do this," he insisted futilely, "You cannot just leave me like this. I won't let you." But there was nothing he could do. It was already too late.

Erik couldn't speak any more, he couldn't move. His last sight was Charles' tear stained face as his vision went black. And his last thought as everything else faded away where the words he'd always wanted Charles to know, but had never even let himself think, until now.

_I love you, Charles, I always have._


End file.
